Into The Gray
by Tensleep
Summary: It was your average Homicide. It was your average social class rivalry. Then why was it bugging him so much? Rated T for content. Loosely a sequel to It's Always the Same
1. A Victim

This takes place after _It's Always the Same_. I've brought Warren Green back of this one, so if you liked him, I'm pretty sure you'll find this interesting. I'm sure you'll all be able to guess which night this story takes place on. And to shake things up, I switched styles, again. The other style just wasn't me. So, for your viewing enjoyment…

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I know nothing, I wasn't even born…and I love Sergeant Schultz.

Dedication: To Jon because you're semi-new and I haven't dedicated anything to you. And that rhymed…Anyways, a little small time, 1966 CSI type stuff for you.

_Into The Gray_

I straightened up from where I was bent over the body of the boy. He was only an hour dead by my estimate and yet the cold of the early morning hour made it seem like he had been dead a little longer than that. Most people would say that the cold preserves a body, and they'd be right, but it also takes whatever signs of life would normally still cling to the corpse. Still, I wasn't surprised he was dead. The knife had entered the stomach cleanly, but whoever had stabbed the boy had somehow managed to yank the knife out at a different angle. That spoke of either knowledge in cruelty or a first time killer who had panicked and tore the knife out. I felt my brow furrow at the puzzle before me. In Tulsa most problems were black and white. Straying into the gray wasn't something I liked at all.

Stepping away from the boy, I felt his blood on the bottom of my shoes sticking slightly as I pulled my feet towards the squad car. The feel of it sent a small shiver of disgust up my spine. I was wearing that kid on my feet now like he was the newest set of Converses. But I didn't let my discomfort show. Not with the reporting officer standing ahead, looking green as he waited for me to get this over with so he could get home to his wife and kids.

"Officer," I greeted, taking the scene report from my newest assistant, Klein

"McTavish," the man supplied

"McTavish," I acknowledged, glancing through the papers in my hands "I'd like to hear your account of all this."

The man visibly paled and Klein passed me another set of papers – a handwritten mess with a signature at the bottom. I ignored them and looked back at McTavish, waiting. I wanted to hear what this man had to say. I could always read his statement – if I could make heads or tails out of his writing – later, when I needed to refer back to it. Right now, I wanted to hear it raw and fresh so I could get it in my mind and see it.

"Well…I was on duty, making a sweep like I always do through the West end of town… and…yeah..." he paused, looking a little introspective "Every morning at 1 and 3 it's standard to – "

"I know how the rotation goes," I interrupted "This would have been during the three o'clock sweep."

McTavish nodded and took a breath before going on. "There was a bunch of kids sitting in a 1965 blue Mustang. They reeked of intoxication, but something had sure as hell sobered them up, all four of them. I noticed that right off when…when I'd knocked on the driver's window. That poor kid was crying…"

I waited patiently as Klein shuffled beside me. This was his first murder and he was handling it better than some I'd had assigned to me before. McTavish wasn't doing so well. He probably had never seen a dead body in his life outside a funeral home. He was just your average cop who made the rounds and worked to clock in and out every day so he could pay the bills on time and feed his family. He'd never expected this when he'd gone over to the car. He figured his whole night would be devoted to getting those boys processed down town so their parents could bail them out and get them all home to bed. It was an easy job until tonight.

"I finally got it out of him that someone had stabbed his friend in this park. I called it in and got over here as soon as Hayes came and took the boys off my hands. Poole and Forbes were here already and the ambulance was on its way by then. The kid was blue, so blue…we all knew he was dead and there wasn't a damn thing we could do about it. His blood was everywhere. He was just a kid…"

It looked like McTavish was about to begin stuttering or worse – shutting down, so I handed Klein back the papers and put a stop to it before he got going.

"That should be all I need. Thank you for your time, Constable."

The man nodded, looking lost and shaken up after reliving what he had seen earlier that night. I waved over one of the other officers and instructed him to take McTavish home. He was done for the night and wouldn't be much use to anyone.

I walked over to my car and reached into my pocket for a cigarette. It had been seven months since I had to even think about a murder case. Then it had been a case of beaten housewife syndrome. The husband had been bashed across the face with a frying pan, sending a splinter off one of his facial bones into his brain and ending his life. I doubted this kid was old enough to be married, let alone have a wife out there gunning for him. But it had the same feel to it. I couldn't explain it and it was puzzling me more than I liked to admit. I didn't like puzzles. They meant more late nights, paper work, and stress in general.

"Officer Green?" Klein asked and I knew my mind was wandering while I had smoked the entire cigarette

"Has the file been driven over?"

"No, sir," he answered reluctantly "A call came in from the station; they want you to come down."

I frowned. This was highly irregular and I didn't like any level of irregular. Klein seemed to be reading my mind. He looked even more uncomfortable and I knew he had the reason why the station was yanking me around. He just didn't want to tell me. I didn't blame him; he was my third assistant in two years and I hadn't slept in 36 hours.

"Apparently the parents of all the boys in question are close and when they heard some of the boys had been hauled in…"

"Damn it," I cursed dryly "I suppose no ones done my job and told them yet?"

"No, sir. Should we get down there?" he asked and I nodded

"Go grab the report from the head Paramedic and we'll go."

I knew better than to show up to a meeting with an already panicked family with no information. I knew better than to show up, period, but Klein was too wet behind the ears to handle a mother and father who had just lost their son violently. I could tell he wouldn't last. He still felt something. It was evident by how he circled the body on his way back over with the written analysis in hand. I took it and tossed it on the front seat before remembering I had to actually make room for Klein to sit in the car. Picking up the papers that held claim to shotgun; I shoved them on the dash and invited Klein to sit down with a wave of my hand. It was going to take me a while to get used to having an assistant around again.

The drive back to the station was a quiet one interrupted only by the sound of the police scanner hissing into the car. Even though I knew better, it seemed like we were maintaining radio silence after what had just happened in the park; a show of respect for the departed. However, the rational part of my brain reminded the other parts that it wasn't often we had much action at this time of the morning and the homicide in the park was about as far as it would go with any luck.

When we pulled into the station, I was quick to make a mental note of the new vehicles parked around the building. Any more and they would become an obstruction, but they told me a lot about the case. I already knew the victim had money from the state of his clothes and the rings on his fingers, but this confirmed that he associated with the money crowd in this town – Socials. Five'd get you ten that the suspect was not a Social, but instead a Greaser – the crowd on the poorer end of town. That being established, I knew for a fact that the on case officers were going to have a headache on their hands. That was the one perk about being the head on-scene Coroner; once the body was dealt with, you were mostly out of the picture.

But there was still one more thing to do before I could consider hollowing away with the scene reports and forgetting there was anything beyond the facts a close study of the case would tell me. And as I walked into the station, I knew it wouldn't be easy.

A line of anxious parents sat on the benches in the foyer and every one of them followed me with their eyes. I knew they knew little to nothing about what was going on thus far and was grateful they had been kept separate from their children. I didn't need to deal with clarifying stories that would have flown from shocked, alcohol affected minds. So I ignored the parents and pushed the door open to the Detective's offices. There was already a congregation gathered and they all seemed to be waiting on me. In fact, they looked relieved that I was there to handle the situation.

"Is there a write up available, yet?" I asked, not impressed with the level of efficiency that had been shown tonight

"Yeah." I didn't recognize the man who handed me the folder, but that wasn't surprising my how little time I spent away from my desk

I thumbed it open; aware every eye on the room was either on me or trying not to be. Robert Scott Sheldon, 17, currently enrolled at Will Rogers High School, spotless record. Date of birth, April 20th 1949. Date of death, blank – awaiting my official authorization. I glanced through the rest, knowing the details weren't all there, but it was close enough so I had this kid's official life spread before me. It was far too short.

"Has the family been informed?" I asked, knowing full well they had yet to be informed

"No, we weren't sure what protocol was with so many people," Lt. Harris answered and I nodded

"I'd like to speak with the Sheldons," I informed them "Officer Klein will simultaneously be informing the other parents their children are currently being processed for under aged drinking and giving official statements in reference to the death of one Robert Scott Sheldon. They all have the right to an attorney at this point in time."

They all nodded and I thought it imperative to add on the most crucial fact.

"This is also a tight lipped investigation. I want every man on this force to remember these kids will start a little war between the east and west ends of town regardless of what we say and do not say. That's the problem with witnesses; they talk, but we can try to contain the situation. I want no suspects officially announced without solid proof and no one is to talk to the press on threat of suspension or more kids are going to end up on my list and during the fight season, we can't afford to let our eyes stray off the north side for long, especially not for multiple homicides."

They all nodded and I gave them all a serious eye before closing the file in my hands and exiting the room. Klein followed me and I carefully looked over all these parents. They'd always been able to buy their children out of trouble, but tonight they were going to find out that there were some things money just couldn't buy. Clearing my throat I scanned the crowd for dark blue eyes that matched Robert's.

"Mr. and Mrs. John Sheldon," I called

A woman with dark hair and dark blue eyes stood and a man with lighter features crossed the room from where he was talking with a few of the other male parents and joined her. I nodded them towards one of the empty offices – not mine since it was full of back logged cases I was looking into. I wasn't sure whom it belonged to, but I knew no one begrudged me for using it. This was not something you talked about where everyone could hear it.

Both the man and woman looked tired and anxious in a 'what did my son do this time and how much will it cost to get him out of it?' way. I was sure they had no idea what I was going to tell them. That was closer to what I dealt with in this line of work. I wish we could have done this in their own home, though. Somehow, it always made it easier for the loved ones to be somewhere familiar. This wasn't going to be easy on them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sheldon, I'm afraid I have some bad news."

I slowly began to explain the events of the night to the best of my knowledge, promising them more when I knew more. I doubt they heard me, though. They both seemed to be in shock. The father was the first to show emotion: anger. The mother was soon to follow with gut-wrenching sorrow

"…Robert's friends are currently being submitted to a toxin screening to determine their level of intoxication and the same will be done to Roberts remains," I explained

"Are you insinuating my boy was drunk?" he growled at me; the first words he had spoken since his opening of 'what is this all about, officer?'

"I have yet to come to that conclusion. When I know, you'll know."

"Bob was a good kid!" he snapped, pointing a finger at me "He wouldn't do anything dumb like this. He was murdered, cold blooded murdered! And when you find the man who…who…"

"Oh Bobby," the mother finally sobbed, face in her hands as her shoulders shook and the tears began to fall

The man enveloped her in his arms, looking like he was on the verge of tears as well. I could tell they needed a moment alone and excused myself with the promise we would be in touch as soon as we had anything new and if they had any questions someone at the desk would assist them. I know it sounded impersonal, but it was the best I and the rest of the department could do for people suffering as they were. As it was, I was sure they would much rather I solve their son's homicide than try and comfort an ache that never heals. I had never experienced it, but I'd seen enough of it not to try to understand it.

God would be blamed, 'Bobby' would be depicted as an angel taken too soon from this life, and the suspect would forever be damned as the worst kind of scum because of it.

I let my mind wander back to the scene and frowned. It was pretty much open and shut as soon as we identified a suspect and then the law would run its course. The only question was why was this bothering me so much?

"How are the Sheldons?" Klein asked, shaking me from my reverie

"As shook up as you would expect them to be," I answered shortly "I'm going to my office to review the scene notes. I want the pictures on my desk as soon as they're developed."

Klein nodded and started off towards the processing room.

"Klein?" I called and he turned "If the Sheldons ask for me, you handle it."

I turned before he could answer and descended the stairs down to my office. It looked like it would be a while before I got any sleep. Tulsa owed me a couple days of peace after this.

* * *

Well, I think that's good enough for a chapter. I think I'll continue on with the tradition of not editing, so the mistakes are mine. Hope everyone enjoyed and is looking forward to chapter 2. 

Any comments at all are welcome and flames are accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens


	2. A Body

Yeah. It has been a really long time since this one was heard from. But hey! I've decided to randomly post it. So hopefully everyone enjoyes. Thanks to Zickachik who ignored othr things to do it for me!

Disclaimer: The usual.

On with the show...

The pictures came in and I was as stumped as ever. Nothing about them taught me anything new about the case. It was far too rare that there wasn't something I missed at a scene. My after-the-fact success was usually attributed to the chance I had to get a look at things from the new view pictures provided, but in this case, no matter how many times I looked, I couldn't pick out anything I hadn't seen at the crime scene. It was with reluctance that I tacked them up on the wall where they would taunt me until this thing was over. There was always something and I was going to find it sooner or later.

Sighing, I pulled myself from where I was rooted facing the wall with the newest crime. I had the opposite wall shrined to a murder that took place over a year ago. I wasn't supposed to have so much evidence. It was my job to handle the scene and the body and step out of the picture until I was needed for a testimony. The detectives took over the case from there. It was procedure. But curiosity was something that I hadn't felt in a long time, not since the murder that was housed on the opposite wall. Besides, no one ever came down here; not even the chief. It was up to me to go to them or a phone call came my way. This was my sanctuary, no matter how morbid or depressing. It was at least away from the hustle and bustle that seemed to drive everyone upstairs to the brink. 

With a final glance back at the newest pictures, I removed myself from the office with every intent **to** get another cup of coffee. It was dawn now and the case detectives said the testimonies would be processed and we'd all be called to a meeting sometime in the next few hours. Thus, I was here going over the case and not at home for the next forty-eight hours or so. It was a crash-and-burn cycle I found worked only with this job. That was what mostly got rid of my assistants and I sometimes wondered what would happen to this town if I died on them suddenly. That thought always brought a smile to my lips. 

"Finally get some sleep, sir?" Klein asked as he helped himself to his own cup of coffee

"No." 

"I did," he informed me "So anything you need done, I'm willing to go do it."

"Good. I have a back log of reports that need to be typed," I informed him and his 'go-get 'em' attitude seemed to fade. 

"Anything else?"

"I've been thinking for a while I need a coffee pot down in the office. See what you can dig up." 

Klein ran a hand through his hair. Like I said, he was new. None of my other assistants had ever been able to procure that coffee pot and I had given up hoping for it a long time ago. But he was young and he was going to try. Well, as long as it kept him busy. We stood there for a few more minutes and I had the feeling I was supposed to make small talk, but I couldn't remember what to comment on. Was Klein the assistant that went home to the dog, cat or gold fish? With my luck he was married with three kids or something and I had probably known since the day I met him. For his sake and the sake of his maybe-family, I hoped not. Women didn't understand this job. Seventy-two hours away from home at a time, the next forty-eight spent trying to catch up on some sleep…it wasn't fair for family men. 

"I think I can find one," He replied, nodding. "So, any luck with the pictures?"

"Nope," I replied taking a sip from the hot mug.

"That mean we're going to go see the body?"

I glanced at Klein. He was young, twenty something, and green as hell. He'd side-stepped the body last night and I was worried he was going to do the same once we got down there or worse – be sick all over the place. He fidgeted as he waited for my answer and I hated how much energy he seemed to have. He almost seemed anxious about going and seeing that kid lying out on a cold steel slab in the bowels of the hospital. Yeah, he wasn't going to last long.

"Yeah," I answered finally

"It'll be my first," he answered. "Well, I know I saw him last night, but he'll be a body now and not a victim. He was my first victim, too."

How did they justify that? He was here to learn, but he should have at least seen a body before he left school. 

"What did you use for practical examination?"

"Dummies, pigs, models…It didn't matter much since we spent most of our time looking at charts, textbooks and diagrams." He shrugged.

"Well, you're in for an experience."

"Will the body smell bad by now?" he asked and I shrugged.

"I don't notice it anymore. If you're queasy, snitch a bedpan or bring a bag."

"How do you get used to it?" he asked and I sighed.

"You just do or you can't do this job," I explained.

"I'll keep that in mind." He frowned.

"If you last that long," I commented, setting down my spent coffee cup and making my way towards the door.

"You know, I've heard stories. Why do you go through assistants so fast?"

"Because none of them have what it takes. This job becomes your life. You got a wife?"

"Yeah, we've been married 3 years."

"Kiss her goodbye. This business is something women just can't compete with."

"You make it sound like we're making a profit, sir," Klein pointed out.

"Far from it. And stop calling me sir."

"Sure thing…Warren."

"I wouldn't go that far, Klein."

Klein smirked and followed me over to the car. The drive over to the hospital was short. Klein got more fidgety as we climbed down to the basement. By the time I was pushing open the doors to the morgue, Klein was slightly hunched over and looking like he would rather be anywhere else.

"You going to make it?" I asked and he straightened up, looking more confident than he did moments before.

"Oh yeah, sure. I mean – it's the job."

I smirked a little. Training was always tough, but bringing trainees to the morgue was cruel. Why? Well that had to do with the medical examiner. 

"Raines?" I called. "Nancy?"

"Green! How are you?" 

I nodded to the bald examiner peeking around the corner. He smiled at us, beady little eyes disappearing in the folds of his face.

"And number…five?" he asked looking over my shoulder at Klein and I shrugged.

"Six, but who's counting." I shrugged. 

Klein blinked. I guess he'd assumed I had fewer assistants before him or possibly even more. Lord knows what gossip gets around the locker room at lunchtime. 

"Welcome, six," Raines greeted Klein with a nod and glanced back at me. "Coffee? You look like you've been on a double homicide."

"Black," I ordered.

"None for me, thanks," Klein answered, looking miffed.

Raines poured a cup of coffee and handed it to me. I took a long drink out of the cup before letting the mug just rest in my hand.

"So, I take it you've come to see Robert."

I nodded and Raines waved a hand over to where there was a body covered up on an exam table. Klein followed along behind me looking around like he was trying to keep his mind off of what was on the table. I took another sip of my coffee and leaned up against the morgue drawers while Raines removed the covering over Sheldon's body. The boy was even paler under the direct lighting and he was completely drained of color. There was no doubt in my mind that Raines had already started draining the body of blood.

Klein looked nauseous. I took another sip of coffee.

"It's sad when one so young perishes." Raines shook his head.

"What's the verdict?" I asked and Raines frowned for a moment.

"His blood was very thin. He was indeed drinking last night. But it was the stomach wound that killed him." 

I nodded. "And what did the stomach wound tell you?"

Raines smiled, looking as delighted as the little man could manage. "You have a theory!"

"Not much of one." I shrugged. "First time spooked killer or cruel."

"But…?" he asked, looking like he was going to burst with excitement.

"I'm leaning towards first timer." I shrugged. 

"I do enjoy your gut instincts, Green," he chuckled. "I am inclined to agree with you. Here, take a look at the wound."

Raines flung back the sheet, revealing the whole body to our view and Klein looked green. The wound was cleaned up and it was easy for the practiced eye to see now that the angle wasn't the same going in as coming out.

"Someone being cruel would have had the opportunity to drag the blade both up and down instead of twisting it out like that," Raines confirmed my earlier thoughts. "However, I am no detective."

"Glory hounds," I agreed, taking another sip of coffee. 

"You know all that without cutting open the body?" Klein asked looking very green.

"We still have to gain consent from the family for a formal autopsy, but in a case like this, it is fairly obvious what killed him. We would hate to put more pressure on the boy's parents," Raines told him.

"I meant the knife angles and all that." Klein waved a hand towards the corpse's midsection.

"Years of study. The human body is a fascinating organism." Raines was practically cooing.

"The kid has a point," I said with a nod. "We should take a closer look."

"We could remove the stomach to do an in depth look at where the lining was punctured!" Raines clapped his hands. "Did you know your stomach is protected by layers of other tissue?"

"No, I didn't know that," Klein answered softly.

"Well, you'll see as we cut through them to get to the stomach. We'll remove it and weigh it. Unfortunately all the pans are in the sink. You'll have to hold it."

Klein looked like he was going to be sick at any moment.

"I held the last one," I replied, finishing off the coffee in my cup. "This is the kid's first body."

"Excellent! A virgin! He can hold the stomach and if we're really lucky, maybe we'll have to remove the intestines as well!"

"I –" Klein motioned towards the doors and before he could say anything else, he was running through them. 

Both Raines and I smiled before the good doctor began laughing with mirth.

"You two are horrible."

I glanced over my shoulder at where Raines' assistant, Nancy, was standing giving us the disapproving headshake. She did have a fresh cup of coffee in her hands that she handed me without a word.

"How else are we supposed to have any fun?" I asked in a flat tone.

"You know, you're charming when you haven't slept in a few days, Warren," Nancy told me, chewing hard on gum…possibly. Most cows went for cud.

"I, for one, thought it would have been fun," Raines sighed. "Four assistants and they have all run out when we mention holding organs."

"I guess it takes a truly passionate man to appreciate coagulated blood and cold body parts," Nancy drawled.

"I suppose it does." Raines nodded.

"Hey Green?" Klein called through the closed morgue doors. "The radio's buzzing. They want to know where you are."

"Tell 'em," I called back.

"I did. They need you for the whole meeting thing. We should go," he replied.

"If your report is ready to go, I can take it now," I sighed, rubbing tiredly between my eyes.

"You know, for being number six, he seems to be doing an alright job." Raines pointed out.

I grunted in agreement, downing my coffee and grabbing the folder Nancy held out for me. 

"See ya next homicide."

I nodded, heading out the door and wondering what was so important about this meeting that they actually wanted me there.

* * *

Alright, I have actually started the next chapter, so as to when this will be updated...Stay tuned.

Any comments at all are welcome and flames accepted.

See ya in thefunny papers!

Tens & Zickachik


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